Double Sided
by Girlaremo
Summary: I never realized that Arthur was so...Different. Living with him as a child, I brushed off some of his nightly behaviors off as nightmares, where he had become a murderer. I realize now that he has two sides: Arthur and Jack. T for blood.
1. Chapter 1

I had lived with Arthur for the first few years of my life, and he himself was a good person to me. Although, some things he did were...a little less than normal to me.

He had been out one night in the foggy back streets of London. I had been home asleep after he had put me to bed, sleeping in that small child's bed that he had given me. Looking up at the ceiling, I couldn't dream I'd see him like I did.

He came in the house with a loud 'BANG!' and proceeded to stomp up the stairs with heavy steps. He was laughing to himself, stumbling as he reached the top step. The hall light blinked on, and I woke up with a start. "A-Arthur?" I called, blue eyes terrified. He opened the door, his silhouette standing out next to the light. "Y-You're home..."

"I'm home, yes." He said lightly, a smile in his tone as he walked closer to my bed and hugged me. "I'm home. With you. In his house."

"What?" I asked, sniffing his clothing. He smelled of cigars, booze, murk and...and...

"Jack is home, little boy." He said, running a thumb over my cheek, leaving a bright red streak. "Home from a day of work..." He smelled of cigars, booze, murk and blood. I was almost afraid to move, and I couldn't. He had somehow pulled out a knife and was holding it to the back of my neck as I was sitting up in bed. "Tell me, you seem afraid. Are you?" He pulled away, leaving the knife in the same position as he smiled a little. Something in his eyes were different. They looked...as if he were asleep.

"I...I'm scared." I squeaked.

"Oh, poor little Alfred. Poor poor boy. I've gone and scared you. Silly me." He laughed, bringing his knife hand to his forehead, tossing the tool away. "You know I would never hurt you. You're Arthur's brother. He'd hurt me if I hurt you!"

I was almost ready to bolt at that moment, mouth pulled into a hard line with tears in my eyes. "...Arthur, you're scaring me. Stop it."

"Oh, why are you so serious! Lighten up! The night is still young, and the women are, too!" He said, moving his red-tipped fingers to my face and forcing me into a smile. "There you go, be happy for once!"

He looked at one of his hands, eyes growing even more far away. "I really like this color...Maybe I should paint the whole town like this." He yawned with that gawky smile and pulled me into a loose hug, laying down on my little bed with me. I just stay awake that whole night, terrified.

Why was he calling himself 'Jack'? What had he been doing to get so much blood on himself? And...what was going on with him?

He had gotten up in the middle of the night in a dazed almost zombie-like manor, and cleaned himself up for the night, and slept for a full day before Francis came over and visited.

We all paid no mind to it, since it was just a one time thing...So I thought.

* * *

July, 1888

"You don't know how much you hurt him, Alfred." Mattie said. He had come down to visit me for the weekend, and it was a little inconvenient. "I mean, maybe you should visit or something." He sat at the kitchen table with a cup of mint tea in his hands, since that's basically all I had besides chicken bullion.

"He'll be fine, he's a tough old Brit." I sighed, straightening up the kitchen a little bit. I had on a loose vest that time and a normal shirt at the time (Colonial wear was never really my style) and breeches. I was wandering around in my stockings, not really wanting to even try and wear my boots since I had gone randomly puddle jumping after my dog, Sammy. Now, the golden colored dog was laying by the fire on the crappy rug that Francis had given me one day. "Anyways, how's it going for you?"

"Not bad...I'm just hoping I can get a little attention here. Ever since France left me to my own devices, it's been...quiet." He said calmly, pushing up his glasses. I seriously had to tell him one day that the 'Benjamin Franklin' glasses weren't his style. I myself needed glasses, but I was putting it off for now.

"You'll eventually get some attention..." I smiled, leaning on the counter top. "So, how's that little bear of yours doing?"

"He still doesn't know who I am. Maybe because he's so little." He gestured how small the ball of white was, about the size of a small coffee bag.

When Mattie came over, I always found it relaxing to talk to him like this. Just little conversations until Sammy came up and tried to jam his nose under Matthew's arm to get himself petted. Sammy was a good guy, but when it came to attention, it was like he was a little kid. 'Pet me, pet me, pet me!' He drove Matthew nuts.

"...But I'm sure you'll get noticed. Eventually." I smiled, looking outside. A small group of kids were out playing hackie sack, looking all cute and...childish.

"You really think so?" Matthew asked, Sammy snuggling his nose under his arm and getting up on his lap.

"Sammy, stop trying to eat Matthew." I said flatly, frowning.

"He's fine...He's okay." He smiled, petting the dog that was just as blonde as him. Sammy looked at him with his big brown eyes, tongue lolling out the side. "Maybe I should get a dog..."

I just shook my head, laughing a little. "You know he eats a ten pound bag in about a week."

"Y-you're not serious, are you?" He asked, confused and scared.

"He does. And when he was younger, he ate my shoes." I nodded, crossing my arms. "All of them."

"Y-You had ten pairs of shoes, though! How could he-!"

"Don't get a dog if you favor your shoes." I smiled, calling Sammy over to me. He was a medium sized dog, sure. But then again, Matthew was a medium-small type person. He'd never be able to deal with a dog as big as Sammy.

"I don't think I'll get a dog as big as him..." He said softly, looking at Sammy as he jumped up on me and started licking at my face.

"I think you'd be better off with the little bear." I pushed the dog off and looked out the window again, the kids were gone and the skies were grey. It almost reminded me of the day that they had taken Arthur away that one day, he was laughing, and yelling and...mad. Crazy. All I could see in color was the color Red. He had worn a red vest instead of his normal green, burning into my memory. Mattie's soft voice brought me back, Sammy was pawing his way under his arm again. "Hm?"

"I said, you should visit Arthur with Sammy. He's a good dog, maybe Arthur will be a little, you know. Surprised." Matthew said. I thought about it, I could. I should. I would go in a couple days, and he would be happy to see me. Yeah...he'd be something like that.

Arthur had been a little sporadic, not answering letters on time, going in and out all the time, and making a lot of odd comments. In the back of my mind, I was thinking he was back. He could be back. He never acted that way. But, in the front of my mind, I just decided it would be a nice gesture to visit.

And so I did.


	2. Chapter 2

_I shall make a longer chapter: don't worry. _

_Grab the booze, and stay calm. :D_

* * *

I tried to get myself over to Arthurs house, but that proved to be less than easy. Sammy and I trotted down main street, I idled in any way I could. I talked with the people of my neighborhood, poked in the stores and pretended to let Sammy go on accident. Every time I tried to fake him running off, he came right back. Good dog, but...he couldn't lie.

"Alfred," Roderick called, trotting up to me. He looked like a child in a candy shop, having decided to visit the town and brought Elizabeta with him. "Hey, how are you?"

"Just fine...I just decided to um...visit...Arthur." I said shakily, seeing his face drop a little.

"I've heard he's gone a little mad. He's...Oh well. I had the same problem when I had problems with Prussia. When he started leaving me alone, I had the 'Nobody to Bother' syndrome."

I nodded, Sammy's tail was whipping at my legs. He wanted to jump on Roderick, but the leather leash in my hands forbade him. "Oh...So that's what you think it is?"

"Definitely." He nodded. "Have you seen Elizabeta anywhere? She said she went off to find a couple dresses or something and I can't find her now."

"I'll keep an eye out." I replied. "If she stops over by my house, I'll send word that she's there."

"That would be greatly appreciated," he smiled. "I have to be off, I got a couple spare parts for my piano, and..."

"Go fix your piano, sir." I trotted off with Sammy, smiling to myself. In an attempt to evade the problem with Arthur again, I tried to go to Matthew's house. One problem: I forgot where he lived, so that proved useless. Walking down the street, I eventually came upon his house. The large ornate house was looming in the distance, and the yard looked disorderly. "Well, that's interesting."

Sammy whined, unwilling to go any farther. I pulled and dragged that dog as far as I could, until his collar snapped and he just plopped down where he stood. Frowning, I looked from the snapped collar to the dog. He looked at me as if saying 'I'll wait here, I swear to God, I am not following you.'. Past the fence I strode, Sammy whined and thumped his tail on the ground, waiting for me to come back. "I'll be back, Sam." I said flatly, looking back at him.

Making my way up to the door, I finally got there, frowning when the person I was looking for came right up to the door and smiled. "Alfred!" He smiled, eyes looking a little tired. He looked as if he had just got done cleaning, dirt stains were on his knees, and his hands were rubbed red. "Oh, I was just going to visit _you, _actually!" He laughed, smiling with the door held open.

"Oh..." I trailed off, confused by his odd and somewhat unusual behavior. He let me in, talking with a smile. I should have picked up the hints that he left right and left about his sanity. He stuttered and wrung his hands, and he just...didn't seem like...Arthur. "How have you been?"

"Good, good!" He said almost too quickly, cutting off my words. "And yourself? You want some tea or something? I _just _put some on, I think you'll like it." He scampered off, not even waiting for my response.

"Are you sure you're okay?" I called, looking around the sitting room. The sofa by the wall had a couple pillows on it, and it was seriously plush. Easing myself down, I sighed as I let myself sink into the cushions.

"I'm totally fine, I just haven't been sleeping the same. I get all worked up in the middle of the night, and then I get all...I feel like I've been drinking coffee." He came back in with the tea tray, items strewn across the platter. Setting down the tray on the tea table, he yawned. "Here, I'll get you some..."

"No, I can get it." I said, almost forcibly pushing his hands away with a warm smile. I fumbled with the teapot, Arthur's eyes were trained on me as he pulled up a wooden chair and sat backwards in it. "So, how have you been?"

"I thought we already discussed this?" He dug a pinky finger in his ear, frowning as he looked back at me. "I've been good. Not bad, not terrible...just good. Oh, I've been painting."

I arched my eyebrows, grabbing a couple sugar cubes and plunking them in the tea cup. "Really?" I asked. I never in all the years I lived thought of Arthur as a painter. He couldn't even paint the broad side of a house. "Do tell."

"It's actually not that bad, I seem to just use one or two colors. I guess it's just a phase." He shrugged. I didn't noticed his eyes burning holes into the tea cup as I poured, quickly taking up the cup as I set the pot down. He gave a weak smile, brows furrowed into a doubting expresion.

I just smiled, sniffing the brew. "Hey, this stuff smells good." Dark brown in color, I peered down into the cup and its contents. Taking a sip, I looked back up at him.

"Yeah, I suppose it does. It really should. I paid a lot for it." He started speaking shortly, picking at his nails. "Go ahead."

In the past, I had been a tea feind, not knowing any other caffeinated beverage to wake me up in the mornings and give me that extra push in the afternoon. In the future, I would learn to not drink _anything _that Arthur gave me. I had drank about half the cup when my vision became blurry and my hands heavy. I rubbed at my eyes, setting the teacup down. "Arthur...?"

"I have a question for you, Alfred." He got up, smiling as I sat with my head in my hands, trying to banish my sleepiness. "Do you remember a fellow named 'Jack' at all? From the news, maybe? Or maybe farther back..."

I had fuzzily remembered a string of murders at the time, a few mangled women's bodies were found, no clues of the murderer were left at the scenes, and nobody knew who did it. Dark spots danced across my vision, growing larger and closer together. I felt the familiar sensation of cold steel behind my neck as he sat down next to me on the couch. He came in close beside me, smiling as he whispered:

"You're not a woman, but you _will_ be fun to play with before I kill you..."

I gave a low sigh as the concoction I had consumed leaked into the farthest reaches of my veins, dropping me into a painless, dreamless and blank sleep. In the last moments of consciousness, I felt him poke at my face, laughing to himself. "Oh, this will be fun...Since Arthur isn't quite here to drag me out..."

Little did I know, Sammy still sat at the front gate, looking up at the house with his sad dog eyes. I would never have anyone do that for me now, of course...but as I walked out of there later that night after all the turmoil, I would never ask for anyone else more dedicated than that.

* * *

I later woke up on the hard floor of a basement, the dirty ground had imprinted itself on my face, leaving a black circle where my cheek had been. I coughed a little, picking myself up. One lone lantern light swung overhead. Looking up, one of the windows of the basement was shattered, and I could look up and see that it was dark out. Stars glittered overhead, and I felt a pang of fear ran through me. The basement door was shut, and I quickly went to it and started jiggling the knob. The end I held to fell into my hand, his laughter on the other side of the door.

"Ha ha, kiddo. You're stuck now!" He was sitting on the other side, doorknob in his hand and screwdriver in the other.

I slammed against the door, getting almost enough pain to make me think I almost popped my shoulder out of joint. Wincing as I drew back, I listened as he trotted up the stairs. "I'll be back with some knives, knives and maybe some acid...oh, and those cookies. Arthur said something about you liking cookies..."

He was completely crazy! Looking around, there wasn't much that I could use to fight him. There was the lantern, sure. But how would I... I took it down from the string it was on, frowning. There wasn't much oil left. How long had I been asleep? It looked as if the window was my only way out, until I found there was a second door. I looked around, above and below the door just in case there was something behind there. I quickly opened the door, expecting some sort of rigged trap, and instead got Elizabeta right in front of the door.

"L-Liz?" I stuttered, my brain was too fried to really say her whole name. She had toppled over after leaning on the door, looking up at me with diluted eyes. She had a couple scratches on her face, and one long gash on the back of her hand. Obviously, she fought back or something.

"Alfred...? Is that you, or that sadistic animal?" She asked softly, trying to get up. She winced, and I instantly helped her up gently, her form breaking once or twice. A large red smear stained her dress, part of her skirts were torn to stop the bleeding.

"It's just me, it'll be okay..." I said, taking her hand in mine and holding her up with my other hand on her hip. I used my foot to turn over a heavier earthen bucket that had been holding nothing at the time and sat her down slowly. She muttered a thanks and held her stomach as soon as I let go. "How did you get here?"

"I don't know. I was out shopping with Roderick, then I remember someone came up behind me and had a knife at my back. I just hit him in the face with my elbow, and it went sour from there..." She painfully winced, pulling her hand away from her wound. "I also remember him trying to drug me..."

"I fell for it." I sighed, hand meeting my forehead. "I didn't think...What...?"

"I don't know what's going on, either." She looked up at me, the circles around her eyes were dark. "I don't want to be too obvious here, but I know we need to get out of here, Alfred."

"You mean 'get out alive', right?" I asked, shaking my head.

"Of course...If there is an out." Elizabeta said. "The stupid bloody Brit stabbed me, so I don't know how much help I'll be."

"How did you manage that?"

"When you get threatened, and you have my skills of combat, you can easily be psyched out by the crazy and forget to shield yourself from lower attacks." She explained. "After that, I fell and he dragged me off by my hair."

"Well, is there anything in that direction?" I pointed, the lantern still lit over in the corner.

"It was too dark for me in there, and I couldn't see at all." She shook her head in dismay. "You have a lantern, why don't you go look?"

With a quick breath, I picked up the lantern and glanced around. The darkness was all murky until something caught fire form the lantern, and then we saw it all.

Bodies. Many, many, many, mutilated, bloody, and decomposing bodies lay in a small hole, all of them were contorted and riddled with death. Elizabeta held a hand to her mouth, eyes filled up with tears. I could only stand there with my mouth in a straight, hard line, trying not to react like an idiot.

"You didn't know they were here?" I asked, turning back to her small form.

"I...I was trying to get out! I didn't meander over there! I smelled blood, but I thought it was my own!" She snapped, back, regretting the whole thing.

"You're seriously bleeding now..." I sighed, closing the door slowly and putting the lamp down.

"What does that mean?" She replied. "I'm fine. I can help myself." I knelt down to her, poking her ribs. She winced and swatted my hand away, frowning at me. "I'm fine, I'll do it myself."

"Okay then..." I looked around, spotting a couple outgrown shirts on one of the shelves. They were fine, just wadded up. "You just don't want me helping you because of Roderick, right?" I picked them up, handing her the cloth.

"Oh, you're so smart." She smiled sarcastically, ripping the first chunk of fabric off. It all only took a few minutes, and in that time, she had been able to bind herself up, stopping the bleeding from her belly. She also determined that he didn't harm her stomach at all, so she would be 'fine'.

The only questions I had at this point were few:

How would we get out?

How much time did we have left?


	3. Chapter 3

_Quick thanks: Naomi / HistoryPrincess._

_:D Glad you like it! If only other people would be interested~_

* * *

Thinking to myself it was almost like a thousand pigeons on a loaf of bread. Holding my hands to my ears as I paced, it was impossible. "How are we going to do this? I don't know if he's waiting outside the window or-"

"We could always break down the door." Elizabeta shrugged. She was doing better after she patched herself up and decided to become the medic. "That would work."

"If I know either of them enough, they might have rigged the door with bombs." I sighed. Since I knew that Arthur himself used to be a pirate, it was always needed to think about what he could do with all this knowledge. "We could always slide a mirror or something...parascope. I declare we make a parascope."

"With what?" She asked me sarcastically.

"Um..." I scratched the back of my head, shrugging a little. "Guess we can't."

She stood up, wincing a slight bit as she straightened up. "Maybe we can hear it if we lean on the door..." Elizabeta said, hobbling to the door and pressing her ear to the rough wood. Frowning when she heard nothing, she gently gave the door a push, and the light frame creaked open. "And you thought there was a bomb."

He left the door open? After he stole the door knob? Oh, this was just too much. Arthur wouldn't be this sadistic, nor would he be this sloppy. "Even if we do decide to go up there, we're virtually unarmed."

"You got the lantern." She pointed, poking the hot glass.

"What good will a lantern do?" I retorted.

She just shrugged, looking up the stairs. "It seems to be clear up there."

_'Yeah, until he's waiting at the top of the stairs.' _ I thought to myself, holding the lantern in my hand as I was a couple steps behind her. She glanced back at me, eyes quickly scanning the room as she neared the top.

"Hand me the lantern." Her hand groped around behind her, her fingers finding the handle quickly as she swung it up from my grip. Everything looked alright, everything was just as it should have been. "Maybe we can light a few candles around here so if we come back we can get out."

"Yeah, but..."

"But what?" She snapped.

"What if Arthur decides to..."

"Alfred, he's obviously not Arthur." Elizabeta said shrewdly. "Maybe he's an evil twin. You talked to him last. You got a name for him?"

"Jack." I said lightly.

"Okay, this _Jack _person couldn't be...He could be one to extinguish the lights..." She sighed, realizing the truth. "Hopefully we can find more lamp oil... that would be helpful."

I could only hope that we did have just enough oil to get us through the place and out the front door...wherever the front door was. I hadn't really gotten used to Arthur's colonial house since I was busy for a while and didn't really visit.

"Should we look around?" I asked, getting a less than enthused look from Elizabeta.

"No, we should sit on our bums and wait for Jack to come back." She sarcastically said.

"I was just asking beca-!"

"Come on. Just follow me." She breathed, the lamp handle swinging in her grip as she walked off in the murky dark. "Men have no sense of direction."

"I do too." I eyed the dimly lit fire place, the poker was laying on the ground. Maybe he bumped into it? Picking it up I felt its weight, the cast iron was heavy in my hands. Turning around, I was alone in the dark. "Elizabeta...?" I called, fear slowly rising up in my chest. "Hello...?" Blindly groping around in the darkness, I could barely tell where I was going when I found the doorway. "Elizabeta?"

* * *

(Elizabeta POV)

I didn't know how this was going to be at first. I could feel his breath on the back of my neck, hot and smelling of a hint of rum. He had pulled me away, knocking the lamp out of my hands and had me with my back to the front of him. A hand pulled over my mouth and other hand at my wrists held behind me rendered me helpless with the pain in my abdominals growing to a wider berth.

Before Alfred had come into the room to find everything was dark, he whispered in my ear, the smell of his breath reaching me once again.

"It's nice to see you again, Miss Lizzy." He said softly, lips almost touching my earlobe. I tried to squirm away, but he gave a quick jerk on my wrists, making me whine in displeasure. "I see you're wearing my color...It suits you well."

As my eyes adjusted, I saw him stumble in, accidentally kicking the lamp. The oil was just about out, the contents were on the ground. "Elizabeta?" He called, confused. He looked like he had the poker in his hand, squinting around for me.

I wanted to scream, my chest was full of air, and my heart was bound to leap out at him. With Jack behind me, it was like I was being held back by evil itself.

"Hey, um...This isn't funny..." He breathed, lifting the wick back up in the lantern so that he could see again. Light shone in the room, just seeing the bottom half of me as he rasied it up. "There you are..." As he slowly brought up the light, his expression. Breaking away only for a minute I screamed at him.

"Run! Just run!"

Alfred hesitantly bolted, the color from his face was gone. I stepped in on Jack's foot, makign him let go of me for only a minute when I kicked at him. He barely caught my foot, and I too ran for it. Ducking down the hall as he followed, shrouded in darkness. My heart was pounding, holding my skirts so I could run, I could hear him trotting after me.

"Oh, I thought we could have a little more fun! Maybe I can find Alfred again and we can have fun then!" He said flamboyantly. I stopped, looking around. There was an empty storage closet below the stairs that was open. Seeing no other choice, I crawled in and shut the door quietly in front of me. It was painful with my knees to my chest, and to hear his footsteps outside made it ever more painful. "Little Hungarian girl...where are you hiding?" He played, his tone was so much different from Arthur's kind demeanor. As if he had been tortured, he spoke in an insane manor. "I do like games, but I don't care much for Hide-and Seek...Sardines is a fun game...I could find you both at once if that's what we're playing."

He paused for a second at where I was, my hand to my mouth and nose to quiet my breath. My eyes were trained on the door, just as thunder started to roll. Lightning flashed below the door, and I could see where he was standing. In the small bits of light, I could see that there were a few things piled in the closet. A couple boxes of musket balls, and a frying pan. Why that would be in there, I wouldn't know. Picking it up, I felt its weight. Heavy, but light enough to run with. He walked away slowly, whistling to himself with a small chuckle.

I slowly deicided that I could...I could take him on. I had a weapon now, and he didn't have the right mind to...

'_Go, go Elizabeta.' _I coached myself. _'Now's your last chance!' _

I slowly turned the doorknob, wincing as the hinges creaked. Nobody was behind or in front of the door: he had completely left.

Crawling out, I had no idea that he was sitting behind the small door, smiling as I had crawled out of the way and he shut the door. My eyes widened in terror, seeing him crouched down like that.

"You're not the only one who can hide." He smirked, lightning flashed and the small glint of silver was back in his hand. "_Viszlát, Elizabeta_."

I had almost forgotten about the frying pan as I scuffled to my feet. He had quickly tried to advance, but I had jumped back far enough for him to miss! With a quick swing of my hands, I had successfully hit him in the side of the head, knocking red spatters everywhere. He crashed into the wall, green eyes glaring up at me with a psychotic smile.

A roll of thunder sounded through the house as I looked at him, panting heavily. I ran the opposite direction, through the kitchen and in the second sitting room. "Alfred? Alfred!" I called. Frantically, I looked around, seeing nothing in the next flash of lightning. The woods outside the house looked more welcoming than anything now, even in the rain.

"Elizabeta..." Arthur called, chuckling. "I know where you are!" He drew out, stumbling and cackling as he went. He neared the opening of the second sitting room, leaning on the doorway. Another flash of lightning and loud thunder showed his status: A red line ran down his forehead, and that crazy smile was plastered across his face. "Maybe if I make you scream, then you'll find Alfred..."

I backed up, shaking my head. He threw a knife, hitting the wall behind me and snagging my skirts as well. Terror rose up as he strode closer, the smile turning into a slight smirk. He slammed his hand on the wall near my head, leaning over me as he held another knife. "Are you going to hit me again with the frying pan?" He asked, glancing down at the cast iron instrument. "Because I'll tell you the last strike hurt..."

I gulped, not wanting to say anything. He could have very well cut my throat out at that moment, but then again, he was crazy. "I remember when Arthur went to France and studied anatomy..." He said slowly, raising the blade to my stomach. I hadn't noticed that his other hand was on my shoulder, poised right above a pressure point. As he put pressure on it, I felt the pain sear through me. I screamed, crumpling under the pain. "It was a real joy, actually. I liked the studies..."

Tears spilled out of my eyes as he let me fall, Alfred was there, making Jack smile. "Oh, just in time, mister hero!"

"What did you do?" He growled, answered with a quick fist to the jaw.

"I didn't do much." Jack smiled, watching as Alfred reeled back with his hand to his jaw. "Just a couple points." He tossed his knife in the air, advancing quickly. I could only try to get the one stuck in my dress out, pulling at the sharp weapon. My skirts were so thick and he had thrown it with so much force, I couldn't get it!

_CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! _He had started to attack Alfred, wandering around the wide room with only lightning to show their positions. Alfred was trying desperately to attack, but Jack was being quick about his hits. It was the moment when he had cut at his hand, making Alfred drop the poker that made me think it was all over.

"Watch out!" I yelled, only grabbing the attention of Jack for that moment. Alfred took the chance to push him over and fetch the poker with his other hand. He then quickly bashed at Jack with the cast iron stick, making the British man groan and fall to the ground. I had finally wrenched the knife out of the wall when the sudden quiet had reached my ears. Alfred panted quietly, trying to regain the breath he had lost. Jack just lay there, chest still moving as he twitched.

"He's...Oh God he's..." Alfred breathed, shaking his head. "I..."

A small trickle of laughter entered the air, Jack's form started to stir again. The laughter became stronger as he stirred to his knees, palms on the ground. We only watched in horror as he groaned, then continued laughing as he rose to his feet.

"Dead?" He asked, wiping his nose. "Not even." He put his hands to his back, popping it back into place, then leisurely popping his neck. "You remember the first time you met me, Alfred? That time when I had gone out that night, and I came home?" Alfred remained quiet, his eyes confused and terrified. "I remember that. It was so nice. I had just killed a prostitute on the street. Ugly thing," He strode closer, driving Alfred back a little. I watched, gripping the pan handle in my fist. I couldn't move. I couldn't even think about moving. I just watched this happen, terrified. "I'd love to just gut you and piddle around in your blood, but..." He wiped his forehead and glanced at the clock. One minut until midnight. "I'm running out of time."

"Wh...what...?" Alfred asked, the clock suddenly ringing midnight. With each clang of the clock, Arthur took a step back, smirking with the side of his mouth.

"I'll see you later, Alfred." Jack smiled, before collapsing to his knees in a heap at the last bell toll. It was all over, the rumble of thunder in the distance. The rain outside had turned into a dreary summer drizzle, and fear slowly eased away from the whole house.

I got up slowly, dropping the pan. And for some reason...I hugged Alfred. It was because of the thought that I was going to die. I honestly thought I was going to not be able to live anther day with everyone around me. He just looked at Arthur, who was slowly regaining his composure.

"Wh-Wh...Why am I...?" He looked at his hands, covered in blood. Arthur looked up at his friends, confused tears in his eyes. "I didn't...I didn't try to hurt..."

"Arthur, you need help."


	4. Chapter 4

Hey, if you're all out there, go ahead and review! I mean, I'd like to get some feedback since I am trying to write seriously for the future. :D

. . . But really, I think I might add in a few other characters who find their 'mad' sides. :D

* * *

The night was late, and how Francis was still awake was odd. Arthur had passed out, leaving a wounded Elizabeta and I to carry him there. The rain had slowed down, but we were still both injured. He looked at us in terror when we came to his door. I imagine Elizabeta had started to bleed again, and I probably had a trail of blood running from my nose. Arthur looked terrible, as was expected from being smacked with a frying pan and being hit with a fire stoker.

We had explained the scenario, how I had been drugged and thrown into the cellar and found Elizabeta, and then the creepy showdown of us all.

"How did you all become injured like that?" Francis was maturely stitching up Elizabeta's wound when I had come back from the washroom, a handkerchief held to my nose. The wound on her belly looked bad, but that was probably because of the iodine he had used to clean it out. "A girl such as yourself should have been able to defend yourself..."

"When someone crazy comes behind you and tries to kidnap you, that's a time where you don't care if you get hurt or not. You just wanna get away." She replied numbly, wincing as he pulled the thread tight. She was also littered with bruises, from trying to get out of Jack's grip, and to top it off she looked tired.

Glancing in the mirror, I saw the black eye that I had earned, along with the other bruise that I got from sleeping in the cellar. In the background, Arthur was sleeping in Francis' bed, a somber expression on his face. How could someone so mild become that mad?

"Alfred, are you okay over there?" Francis asked me.

"Fine..." I frowned when I saw Elizabeta sewing herself up instead, muttering that French sewing was 'worse than Jack'. "Isn't that..."

"Odd? She's really talented." Francis mused. Arthur stirred in bed, slowly waking up.

"Francis...? What are you three doing in my..." He looked around, dazed and sounding pained. "This isn't my house..."

"Arthur, I think you have a slight problem." Francis breathed, bringing his chair close to Arthur's bedside. "You tried to hurt Elizabeta, and by the sounds of it, many other women. Arthur just looked at him like he was mad himself, watching as the Hungarian girl messed with her skirts.

"She looks fine to me!" Arthur exclaimed, sitting up painfully.

"Oh really?" She lifted her skirts to reveal her under-breeches and the freshly made stitch marks that she had helped with. Arthur's face had dropped at that moment, mind slowly recollecting what Jack let through to him. "See that? That's fifteen stitches and possible bleeding. You wanna say you or your crazy didn't do that?"

"I...I remember..." He lay back down, hands over his eyes. "Oh...I...I'm..." Arthur sprung up, worried. "I didn't hurt you, did I, Alfred? Please say I didn't..."

"You just have a mighty right hook and you know how to lace teas with drugs." I replied, nose still bleeding. It would help if I leaned forward and actually aided with the blood flow, but then again, I was in no mood to really wait. "I don't know what to do. From what I can tell, this guy living in your attic is kind of...random."

"I agree, he could probably come at any minute." Elizabeta glared, making sure her skirts were back in place. "Roderick is going to be upset when he sees me again..."

"Don't...Don't remind me." Arthur lay silent for a while, letting Francis think for a little bit.

"I think I might have a solution. I'm not one for crazy things, but..." Francis said slowly, thinking out his words.

"What is it?" I asked, inclined on helping my brother.

"It doesn't involve leeches, does it?" Arthur groaned, frowning deeply with one of his arms over his eyes.

"Do I look like a crazy man?" Francis gave a nervous laugh, rolling his eyes. All of us kind of wanted to say 'yes' and move on, but the room remained silent. "I've been reading for a while, and I know it's been a while since ti's come around, but I think that hypnotism would be a good way to possibly get rid of this menace."

"And you all think I'm the crazy one..." Arthur sighed, still in the same position he was before.

I thought about it, realizing that yes, hypnotism was a good idea and yes, it could possibly block off that personality...

"It's worth a try, no? I mean, you could just let him ruin himself, and eventually get Arthur ki-"

"We'll take it." I said quickly, a sly smile spreading across Francis' face.

"Very well then, I'll go get a watch and we'll get started."

* * *

The later brought Arthur sitting in a chair, looking tired. He had basically spent the whole night trying to murder us, so I could see where he was coming from. I was the one living the living hades itself, and I was beat. Elizabeta had retired to the bed after taking a couple sips of the bourbon sitting by the mantle of the fire place to ease the pain in her abdominals. Francis sat in front of him, calming himself before proceeding. I was in the chair farther away, just in case I fell into one of the trances.

"Alright, listen carefully to my voice, and watch the clock on the chain as it swings." He said, releasing the small pocket watch in his hand. Just in case, Arthur's wrists were tied down, just in case we triggered Jack's personality. "Alfred, I need you to stay awake. I know it's hard, but you'll probably spend more all nighters in worse ways. Okay?"

"Yeah, I'll stay awake." I nodded tiredly yawning.

"Okay...You are sitting in the chair, totally relaxed. There is nothing on your mind, it is a blank slate at this moment. Now, close your eyes, and take a deep breath." Francis narrated, smiling as Arthur's head dipped a little as he exhaled. "You are so realaxed, you feel as if you're going to fall out of your chair. You are comfortable where you are, and this is making you tired. Very tired. Slowly falling into a deep sleep, you can still hear my voice. Now, when I snap my fingers, you will fall into a deep sleep, and I will rewake you with another snap." Francis breathed, brows furrowed. 'I hope this works...' he mouthed, glancing over at me just in case. He gave a quick snap, Arthur was completely dead to the world. "If you can hear me, I call upon the man living with Arthur called 'Jack'. Jack, wake up." He snapped again, Arthur jumped in his seat, a quick sigh escaping him.

"Well, I was supposed to wake up later." He sighed, looking up at the people watching him. "I guess you just really missed me, right?"

"Something like that." Francis smiled nervously. "You know who I am, no?"

"You're that Frenchie who looks like a woman. Francis. What a feminine name..." He smirked, looking up again. "You're so much like a woman as it is, I want to..." His fists rattled, fingers visibly twitching. If it weren't for the restraints, Francis might as well have been dead then and there. "_Disembowel _you."

"I bet you would." Francis laughed. "Could you possibly tell me how you came about?"

"It's a decent story, I'll admit that. Heh, it's kind of sad, really." He sighed, sorting out his disarrayed thoughts. "It had started when we were all children, and all was fine. I was just an imaginary friend at the moment, and I think something happened that pretty much put me in his mind like a railroad spike to the brain. I didn't come up often, just making the random unsolved murder and then going back to sleep in the reaches of his consciousness.

"When Alfred came around, I jumped up again. The stress of having a child proved a little tough for him, but I relieved his stress of him. He just thought he had crazy dreams, but oh, it was real. It was all real. I broke free when you grew up, Alfred." He happily gazed at me, an actual thankful smile on his mug. "He broke down, cried, bawled, fell asleep, and I got up after a few grieving years and started slashing, hacking, ripping and popping joint out of place."

"That's..." I couldn't think. I was the problem? I...

"Oh, don't worry. The Frenchie spurred my comings, too." He smiled at Francis. "Those years of trying to get him to move in because of debt really hit him. Very stressing." Jack paused, frowning. "So, why'd you bring me back here? Come on, there's gotta be a reason."

"No reason. You'll find out later." Francis sighed. "But now that we know why you're here, I want to switch back to Arthur, okay?"

"Oh, no you're not." Jack laughed, shaking his head. "No, he's asleep, and that's your fault. He won't wake up since _you _put him in that trance."

Francis snapped, Jack fell limp against his will. "He's going to hate me after this." Francis sighed. "Alfred, stand behind Arthur and hold his shoulders and don't let go no matter what. This might get ugly."

"Why does this not seem safe...?" I asked myself, holding my brother's shoulders. Even if I could only see the back of his head, I knew he was in pain at this point.

"Alfred, it'll just be in case Jack tries to get out. It'll be a problem for him to get back out, but he's fighting this as we speek" Francis sighed, pointing at Arthur's twitching fingers. "I'm just worried." He cleared his throat, talking in the tone he had to bring them into the trance. "Jack, you are slowly shrinking. Slowly, slowly, becoming smaller and smaller. Arthur's hands shook in loose fists, gripping and clawing at the chair. Francis looked up at me, just making sure I was there. "You are small enough that you are helpless, you cannot hurt anyone, you cannot do anything. There is a large safe, just big enough for you. I have the key, and until Arthur is in his trance again and say '_Retour, Jack' _you are unable to return to the world." He watched as Arthur calmed only slightly, before he jolted and gripped the chair, nails digging into the wood. "The door is closing, the locks are shut, you are unable to leave. Goodbye, Jack."

The shaking stopped, Arthur was alone again. With a smile Francis snapped, waking Arthur up. He was confused at first, then able to look around. "Did something happen?" He asked, tone confused and somewhat upset.

"You're fine. You're just fine. We just all need to sleep, that's all." Francis said, his actual fatigue seeping into his tone.

I had no idea what I had actually witnessed. I would probably never know in the end until I felt it all myself.

* * *

_Francis' Notes: Multiple personalities is a problem within the people, throughout time, there are cases where one disappears completely, the second personality makes appearances or the second (usually more destructive, may I add) personality is destroyed. _

_I myself have no clue if I have these personalities. After experiencing 'Jack', I have no intentions of finding my own. _


End file.
